"Paddle hard! Go it, Jack! Give it to her, Henry! You're way ahead. They're not half 'round the bank yet. Hooray!" Spurred by the cries, the two canoeists plied their paddles with renewed zeal. So on they emerged into smooth water. Away up the bank, Tom and Bob, dismayed, saw their rivals take the lead in the long race--a lead that could not be overcome. Sitting up proudly, Henry Burns and Harvey raced past the familiar shores, saw the old camp come into view, shot across the finishing line, and the race was won. Standing on the bank, they watched the others come trailing in: Tom and Bob not far behind; the Warren boys third, and the Ellisons last. "Yes," said Tom Harris, good-naturedly, as they sat outside the camp a little later, "but you had to get a girl to show you how to beat us." "How'd you know you could go through there, anyway?" he added, turning to the girl who, with Little Tim had come down the shore to see the finish. "Did it to get away from gran' once," replied Bess Thornton, her eyes twinkling. "My, but wasn't she scared. It's easy, though, isn't it, Tim?" "Easy! It's nothin'," said Little Tim. CHAPTER X HENRY BURNS MAKES A GIFT It was evening, and the streets of Benton's shopping section were lighted; the illumination of windows serving to display the attractions arranged therein to best advantage. The night was warm and pleasant, and the passers-by moved leisurely, enjoying the sights, or pausing now and then to gaze in, as some object caught their eye. Three boys, sauntering along one of the principal thoroughfares, stopped abruptly as one of their number called them to a halt and pointed on ahead. The object to which he pointed was a fourth youth, who was standing, with hands in his pockets, intently absorbed in the display in one of the shop windows. "Sh-h-h!" whispered young Joe Warren to his companions, his brother George and Bob White, "look at Henry Burns. My, but that's rich. We've got one on him, all right. Hold on, let's come up on him easy." The boys drew a little nearer to Henry Burns, grinning broadly. Henry Burns, all unmindful of such concerted observation, continued to gaze in at the brilliantly lighted window. The contents of the window-case were, indeed, such as one would hardly have supposed to be of interest to a youth of his age. The shop was one of Benton's largest dry-goods establishments, and the particular window was devoted wholly to an assortment of women's and misses' dresses. Several more or less life-like figures, arrayed in garments of the season, occupied prominent positions in the display. Directly in line with Henry Burns's vision was one of these: the figure of a girl, dressed in a neat summer sailor suit, the yellow curls of the head surmounted with a dashing sailor hat; its waxen cheeks tinted a most decided pink; its blue, staring eyes apparently returning the gaze of Henry Burns, unabashed at his admiration.